Prophecy
by SadameHime
Summary: A family woven into the prophecies of Morrowind, sisters in love with gods, and a father who bares the mark of Nerevarine. Will one prophecy be sacrificed in favor of the other, or will Azura kill the hope of his daughters?


Prophecy

Summary: A family woven into the prophecies of Morrowind, sisters in love with gods, and a father who bares the mark of Nerevarine. Will one prophecy be sacrificed in favor of the other, or will Azura kill the hope of his daughters?

Disclaimer: I do not own Elder Scrolls in any way, shape, or form. Voried'hel, Nyara, and all other OC's are my own creations.

_Dearest Voried'hel,_

_Our girls have grown exceptionally well. Mordria joined the Morag Tong last year, following in your footsteps. Our two, blessed twins Fionna and Nyara joined the temple as I thought. Fionna went on her way to the Clockwork city to train in the arcane arts under the guidance of her patron god Sotha Sil. Perhaps it was a good thing they ran away that time.. Nyara has followed her own patron and now resides in Vivec. Last I heard from her she had work to do inside the Ghostfence. I wish you hadn't gotten drunk and killed a man while you visited your family in the Imperial City..but there is nothing that could have been done. What good news it is that you will be returning to us! When can I expect you, my love?_

_Love Always_

_Tyaera _

With a great smile, the dark elven prisoner walked slowly with his letter in hand toward the carriage that would take him on the first part of the journey home. Never once did he think that Morrowind might bare that mark, but he missed his family deeply. Each and every word of news he cherished like gospel. His only regret was knowing he would arrive before any letter. His arrival in his wife's homeland seemed to be of importance to the Imperial world he had known all his life. The world of his fellow Dunmer felt distant and unrealistic at time, yet it existed. His daughters formed the pillars to keep him believing in the Tribunal, but he had no real faith in any religion.

Mangled black hair fell in the way of his dark red eyes as Voried'hel sat within the first vessel that took him steps closer to his wife and children. He dreamed of an unfamiliar voice and vague landscapes for most of the ride, and this dream repeated when he reached the ship.

_Many fall, but one remains. _

Why did this sound so familiar? Maybe the grandiose tales of Lord Nerevar according to his mother's ancestors, the Ashlanders, contained this phrase. A line in a fairy tale, a line in a prophesy few dared to believe in recent days. Even his mother denounced belief in the Nerevarine. Living in the Imperial City with a Priest of the Nine Divines could do that to a woman.

He awoke to the voice of his former cell mate, though his name escaped him in the daze of the morning. He only knew that his feet carried him to freedom, that he must go to Balmora, but what was most important, was that he needed to see his family. With the little gold offered to him, he took a stilt strider to Suran. His wife now owned the farm property his father-in-law once oversaw, and he saw the way clearly in his mind. His thoughts proved to be his only source of entertainment, and so he drifted to thinking about his oldest daughter, Nyara. What could she be doing inside the Ghostfence?

_Ghostgate_

The silvery hair and pale blue skin of Nyara, Ranger and Matriarch of the Tribunal Temple, could be seen through the red haze of the ash storm. She had taken it upon herself to plan out a more reliable map of the region, and the further up the mountain she climbed, the more she realized the task was far more than daunting. Her _arrows_ had to fly faster than any time before, and her feet had to carry her further and with much more care than anywhere outside the fence. She wondered if her god, her idol, Vivec, knew that her task would be such an undertaking.

All of her faith was not enough to keep her moving, and so she returned to the gate with only the main citadels marked. She took her rest with her fellow members of the Temple before returning to Ald'Ruhn and riding to Vivec. Nyara was oblivious to her father's return. Even if she knew, all likelihood would tell one that this Ranger would not return home without a visit to her patron god.

The gondola ride to the temple gave her time to think on what she planned to say. The one who took her to her destination had become very familiar with the young Matriarch, and sometimes went with her into the temple. His name was Dalmus Ralen, a young Dark Elf who hoped one day to become a Telvanni Mage. His hopes went against his deeply religious notions, but he prayed to keep heavy grasp on his mind once he could begin his training.

Dalmus was always a very pleasant man to be around for Nyara, and she tended to be just as pleasant to him. He seemed to always find his way as the gondola's 'captain' whenever she might be in need of service in Vivec. It was no secret to those that made the large Velothi city their home that this humble man had great feelings for the Temple Matriarch. If only he knew his competition.

Nyara made little conversation with the hopeful man on this day. With a partially remade map of Red Mountain in hand, she could only wait for the High Fane to come into view. Her foremost priority was to speak with Vivec. Dalmus seemed to recognize the unbreakable look of focus in her eyes, and did not attempt to spark words between them.

His only words happened to be a brief and quiet good-bye, which seemed only half-way returned by Nyara. Dalmus admitted to himself that she seemed less and less a woman and more like a goddess in her own right. With a brief shake of his head to dismiss the thought, he made his way back to the Foreign Quarter which was his post for the day.

Early morning sun painted the High Fane an unusual color of red, and the inhabitants of the temple district welcomed their Matriarch warmly as she passed through. Her destination was the Palace of Vivec. The tall flight of stairs proved to be a challenge that morning, her body still worn from the dangerous attempt she had made at Red Mountain.

One key stood out on her key ring as she neared the final stair. It showed signs of wear, having been used two times a week for the past several months. Some of the iron was beginning to pale from use, and as she slid it into the keyhole, she expected to see it continue down the same path. At this point, nothing made her fear loosing her singular light.

The gentle, welcoming voice of her patron god range clearly in the round room he spent his days in," Good morning, Nyara. I am glad to see you have returned."

The Ranger could not help but smile at his words. In the long amount of time she spent in Vivec's service, she had known him to make the argument that gods could not feel mortal emotions. Was happiness not one of these emotions? The question intruded in her mind, stirring the concoction that usually brewed when this subject came about. She fought her instincts to bring the argument to light, and closed the door behind her.

Her unusually pale blue skin was darkened by soot from Red Mountain, and her hair was a jumbled mess from the high winds of the Ashstorm. Standing before Vivec, she felt hardly worthy of standing before him. He seemed to pay no mind to her storm-tossed look. He must have taken into consideration the task she had placed on herself.

"I assume your trek on Red Mountain was unsuccessful?" He inquired.

"Marginally. I found a mine where some Imperials were. They fought with me, and would not give any details to their purpose. That is all I found that had not been recorded on the map I had been given by those at Ghostgate."

Vivec retreated from his cross-legged place in the air, feet making impact with the stone floor for the first time that week. He approached Nyara slowly, and to her, he still seemed to be floating on air with every step.

"Hardly an important detail, but your effort is appreciated nonetheless. You were not hurt, were you?"

Nyara shook her head at his question," No..well, I did get hit with a few spells. I kept my distance from the Ash people on the Mountain, as well as the few corpus monsters I ran into. Their numbers are daunting.. it's a wonder why they have not attempted to leave the mountain."

"-That- is useful information. You are wrong on assuming that they have not left the mountain. The Ordinators have encountered several Sixth House bases on the opposite side of the gate from their master. There is one not far from here, if memory serves me well."

Nyara did not question her god's words. She believed him more than anyone else, followed his teachings devoutly. Some might consider her the perfect priestess to use as a model for other hopeful Temple members. She had secrets like anyone else in Vvardenfell. Hers were the ones that motivated her zealot-like following of the Tribunal.

"This is terrible indeed. No matter how many of them that are slain their numbers will be replenished with the heroes responsible for wiping out a group of them. There's not much that can be done, is there?"

Vivec nodded softly," There is little anyone can do. Night is darkest before the dawn, however, and we must hope that proverb applies to the situation in Morrowind as well."

Her memorable life had always seemed to be night. She could not remember her father's face, and more than once had she attempted to run away from her mother. The latter is what brought her to meet Vivec, Fionna to meet Sotha Sil, and Mordria to meet Almalexia. After meeting them, the trio of girls returned home, and their behaviors all were greatly changed. She remembered her mother saying once that her changes were more profound than those of her sisters.

As a young one, Nyara had always been rebellious, impatient, and downright evil to the other children who attempted to make contact with her. It had always been assumed that this was her outlet to vent the bitterness she had after her father's imprisonment. When she returned with her sisters, Nyara wore a small ruby pendant, suspended around her neck with thin rope. She never took it off, claiming that it had been given to her by Vivec. Her mother did not believe her at first, but when Fionna carried a small, simple spell book, and Mordria carried a mortar and pestle, the woman believed their stories. More than gratitude existed toward the gods from that day on from Tyaera.

Rebellion no longer existed as part of Nyara's repertoire. She was more than obedient starting a week after she had met Vivec. Her patience grew everyday, and she no longer treated others as terribly as before. Fionna stopped wasting time on games and began to focus on training as a mage, her little book given to her by Sotha Sil in hand. Mordria changed little, but one thing grew sharper within her. She slept more often than her sisters, and unlike them, she enjoyed the dreams she had. Apparently, Dagoth Ur did not haunt her.

By now, the rope on Nyara's necklace had been replaced by a silver chain to match the filigree around the ruby. Only in battle did she tuck it beneath her bone mold armor. There existed no doubt that this pendant was her most treasured possession.

Her conversation with Vivec evolved into a discussion about her family, and how her life had been in the week she had left his side. In these moments above all others, Nyara saw humanity within him. She never questioned his divinity, but each time he asked of her wellbeing, she felt herself question his usual argument. He -can- feel mortal emotions, she concluded, but they are not as potent for him as they are for everyone else around her.

She stayed with him longer than usual, conversing well into the night hours. When she prepared to head home and aid her mother with preparations for the harvesting season, Dalmus Ralen awaited her at the gondola stop at the High Fane. She brought a smile to his face. Perhaps it was because her own smile shone like the sun at noon.

_A day well waisted._


End file.
